Too much of a good thing?

Somewhere along the lines, Sparky and Catfish discerned that Moms and Dads like breakfast in bed, or the idea of breakfast in bed anyway.

Two of the last three mornings we have been blessed with hand-delivered Cheerios and milk. Mind you, we are talking about a four and five year old pouring from a full box and a full milk jug into a glass bowl and marching them up two flights of stairs.

The first time they tried this a week ago, I felt quite honored. Now, I'm still honored, but a bit more realistic about the clean up effort that will be involved. Sunday morning, Sparky tripped at the last minute, delivering the cheerios and milk right to my sleeping face on my pillow. Wet face, wet pillow, wet sheets, and a surprised*and yet still acting enormously pleased* mama.

Yesterday Catfish attempted breakfast for everyone on his own. He brought me my bowl and although I was awakened from a dead sleep, I was touched. Really I was. I was even more touched when I saw that he had brought his brother and his Dad their bowls as well. And even though Daddy was already in the shower and Sparky was hiding under the covers, both bowls were precariously placed on the bed, filled to the rim with milk. How they managed to not spill was surely a small miracle, and for that I was supremely thankful. I'm not sure I would have managed enough grace to handle a bed full of milk twice in a week.

So thanks so very much boys. Your tenderness and sweetness at the crack of dawn when I'm notriously not at my best is a tremendous way to start my day. It humbles me, it makes me smile and it reminds me how precious the "pleasing years" really are. But maybe, just maybe, we could try dry cereal or microwave pancakes next time.